


See What I See

by Elisara



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: cottoncandy_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisara/pseuds/Elisara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you spend time around hot, buff werewolves who run around half-naked a lot, it makes you more than a little self-conscious. But Isaac assures Stiles that his body is perfect just the way it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See What I See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheylock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheylock/gifts).



> Written for the "body image" square of Cotton Candy Bingo. Dedicated to Cheylock for being an incredible human being.

It took him a while to notice.

In his defense, there really was a lot going on at first, what with trying to survive Argents and Alpha packs and sudden, but inevitable betrayals by psychopathic uncles. Even once Derek and Scott managed to finally start working together as co-alphas of a consolidated pack, there were still enough supernatural shenanigans to prevent Isaac from really understanding some of the idiosyncrasies his recently acquired boyfriend displayed (and really, considering the number of idiosyncrasies Stiles possessed, it wasn't any wonder Isaac missed just one).

It was actually an off-hand comment by Lydia about "werewolves and their distaste for remaining fully dressed" that first clued him in to the situation. Jackson had snarked a response to the effect that all guys preferred to go shirtless when it was "hot as the third level of hell." Lydia, of course, had to snip back with the information that the third level of hell was actually cold, according to Dante's _Inferno_ , which left Jackson rolling his eyes so hard that he completely missed Scott sneaking up behind him. Between laughing at Jackson's faceplant and dodging Derek's own tackle, it occurred to Isaac that Stiles, sitting on the porch steps and tapping away on his laptop, not only still had a shirt on, but was actually wearing two.

He forgot all about it, though, when Scott knocked him to the ground and started tickling.

He was reminded of it again a few days later in the locker room before practice. Usually, Isaac was too busy changing into his own uniform to pay attention to what anyone else was doing, but he'd been held back in his last class when his English teacher wanted to discuss some problems with one of his papers. When he managed to make it to the locker room, it was just in time to see Stiles almost huddled between his own locker door and Scott's, jerking his practice jersey over his head before stepping back and picking up the thread of conversation he seemed to have momentarily dropped.

When almost the exact same scenario repeated after practice, Isaac decided it was time to consult the expert.

~~~

"Is Stiles shy?"

The incredulous look he received from Scott had Isaac reevaluating his wording. "I don't mean in personality. I mean, is he shy about his body?"

A little crease formed between Scott's eyebrows. "I don't think so. Why?"

Isaac shrugged as he dumped another scoop of dog food into a bowl. "I don't know. It's just...I mean, he never takes his shirt off like the rest of us when we're training."

"Well," Scott said slowly, "It's not like he's actually training with us. He's usually just talking to the girls or messing with his computer."

"He hides in the locker room, too."

Scott blinked, cocking his head slightly to the side, obviously digging through his own memories. "Huh. I guess he sort of does."

Isaac filled another bowl and moved on down the line. "Has he always done that?"

Scott shook his head. "No. I mean, he did usually wait for me before he went into the shower after practice, but I don't really remember him hiding like that before..."

Isaac's eyebrows went up in inquiry, then shot back down when Scott grimaced. "Before?"

Scott sighed. "Before I got bitten."

"You think he's hiding because you're a werewolf?" Isaac asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Not because I'm a werewolf, exactly," Scott said, picking up the 50 pound bag of dog food like it was empty. "But maybe...well, after I got bitten I really filled out and toned up a lot. You did, too, remember? And, I know Stiles works out with us on the team, but he doesn't train as hard as we do, so maybe he thinks he doesn't look as good?" Scott sighed, tossing the dog food into a corner and hefting a bag of cat food onto his shoulder.

"Should we say something?"

Scott bit his lip. "I don't know. Stiles is really good at hiding things, and even better at deflecting. I mean, I didn't even notice anything different until you mentioned it. I'm not sure he'll actually talk to me about this, especially if I'm sort of part of the problem."

Isaac hmmed softly in agreement as he took the bag of cat food and handed over the scoop (the cats weren't very fond of him, and even though the scratches healed quickly, they still hurt). "Do you think I should say something?"

"Do you think he'd give you a straight answer?"

Isaac pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Probably not. He'd just go off on some tangent about the fallibility of the body mass index or something."

Scott grinned. "That's our Stiles."

"So how do I make him feel better?" Isaac asked. "I don't like knowing that something like this is making him unhappy."

Scott shut the cage door then leaned back against the wall, giving Isaac a long look. "Maybe instead of saying something, you should try _doing_ something." A little smile tilted the corners of his lips. "Don't they say actions speak louder than words?"

Isaac's eyes went wide and a blush started creeping over his cheeks. "Are you saying I should -"

"Stop," Scott begged, holding his hands up in front of him. "Please, I don't need to hear the details."

Isaac laughed softly at Scott's obvious discomfort. "So I guess that means you two never did any experimenting together when you were younger."

The grin Scott flashed made Isaac question his conclusion. "I'll never tell," Scott said, sauntering out the door.

"What?" Isaac grabbed the cat food and ran after Scott's retreating back. "Wait! What?"

~~~

It took Isaac almost a week to come up with what he considered a good plan, and then, thanks to an angry dryad, almost another before he had a chance to put it into action. But finally, on Thursday afternoon, practice was called off early due to Greenberg catching a hit at a bad angle. The resulting crack from the fracture of his tibia had made Isaac's stomach knot.

He spent the ride from school to Stiles' house focusing on his plan and trying to forget his teammate's screams. It helped to listen to Stiles' theories about Coach Finstock's frantic words and gentle touches as he held Greenberg's hand while waiting for the ambulance.

When they arrived at the house, he followed Stiles inside, dropping his backpack on the floor. 

"Want a snack?" Stiles asked, hanging his keys on a hook near the door.

Isaac shook his head. "When's your dad getting home?"

"He said he was going to have to work late tonight, so probably not until around eight," Stiles said. "Why?"

Isaac moved closer and curled his fingers into the belt loops of Stiles' jeans. "Because I had a thought," he replied, tugging Stiles forward.

"Oh, yeah?" Stiles' was grinning as he ran his hands up Isaac's chest. "I think I like your thought."

Isaac laughed softly before lowering his head and rubbing his cheek against Stiles'. "You haven't even heard it yet."

"Oh, I think I can guess," Stiles said. He straightened away and took Isaac's hand. "Why don't we take our thoughts up to my bedroom, instead of standing here thinking in the hall."

Isaac trailed Stiles up the stairs without hesitation, closing the door once they were in Stiles' room. He kicked off his shoes before pulling Stiles back into his arms and pressing a slow, soft kiss to his lips.

Isaac loved kissing Stiles. Stiles threw himself into kissing as though it were the most amazing, most fulfilling thing he'd ever experienced. He would nip and lick and gently suck on Isaac's lips before deepening the kiss to explore Isaac's mouth while he tangled his fingers in Isaac's curls. Kissing Stiles never failed to light a raging inferno in the pit of Isaac's belly that spread the heat of desire from the tips of Isaac's fingers all the way down to his toes.

"God, you're good at that," he panted as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Stiles'. 

Stiles grinned. "Well, you've certainly given me enough chances to practice, and as they say, practice makes perfect."

Isaac lifted his head and brushed his thumb over Stiles' cheekbone. "You were already perfect."

Stiles stuttered and blustered and blushed. "Shut up. I'm about as far from perfect as it's possible to be."

"Are not," Isaac argued, pressing another kiss to Stiles' lips. "Not to me."

Stiles backed up and shook his head as he tugged Isaac's shirt up. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Isaac grinned, pulling the shirt completely off and tossing it to the side. "You love me anyway."

Stiles' eyes softened. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Their mouths met again, and Isaac used Stiles' distraction to push his plaid shirt off his shoulders before sliding his hands under the edge of Stiles' t-shirt. He brushed the tips of his fingers over the soft skin of Stiles' stomach and felt the heat in his core flare up higher at the way Stiles moaned at the touch. 

It was only a few steps to the bed, but the transition from vertical to horizontal was made so quickly that Isaac didn't even remember moving, and it was only a moment before he had Stiles underneath him and arching up into his touch. He shoved the t-shirt higher, leaning down to run his tongue over one small, brown nipple. 

The noise that tore from Stiles' throat was filthy, and made Isaac shiver with anticipation. "Off," he said, tugging at the shirt. 

"Bossy," Stiles grumbled, but he pulled the shirt off, dropping it over the edge of the bed and gasping when Isaac moved from one nipple to the other. "Fuck," he ground out, then laughed breathlessly at Isaac's muttered, "Maybe later."

Isaac sat up, straddling Stiles' hips and smiling down. "I like it when you laugh."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but Isaac could tell he was pleased. "You're so weird, you know that?"

"You like weird," Isaac grinned, running his palms slowly up over Stiles' chest and down his arms. He picked up one hand and brought it to his face, sucking a finger into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

"Oh my god." Stiles was starting to pant softly, and Isaac could hear his heart pounding harder and faster. He sucked in a second finger, sliding his tongue between the two and pulling more sounds from Stiles that would have made him blush if he hadn't been preoccupied. 

He released the fingers and moved to trace a spiral with the tip of his tongue over the palm of Stiles' hand, then gently scraped his teeth over the delicate skin of Stiles' wrist. Taking his time, he let his lips caress every inch of skin from wrist to elbow, then continued up, covering the sensitive skin from elbow to shoulder with quick, almost dainty little licks. 

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, as Isaac buried his face against Stiles' neck, breathing deeply.

"Worshiping you," Isaac said before continuing to explore the shell of Stiles' ear with his tongue.

"Wh-what?" Stiles choked on a breathless laugh as Isaac's mouth moved further down.

"Shhh," Isaac whispered. 

"Wait," Stiles said, sucking in another harsh breath as Isaac's tongue flicked at a hardened nipple. "What do you mean you're worshiping me? What?" 

Isaac sat up and ran his hands from Stiles' shoulders to his belly, then scooted backwards slightly to start unbuckling his belt. "I mean," he said, tugging open the button fly of Stiles' jeans, "that I love everything about you. You're perfect to me, and somehow, I'm going to find a way to convince you of that, even if it means exploring every inch of your body until nothing is left hidden and nothing is secret and it's just you and just me." 

Isaac blew out a breath then raised his head. "I'm not saying this right. Words are your thing, not mine. But you're everything to me, Stiles, and I need you to understand that. I need you to _believe_ it."

Stiles' eyes were wide and his mouth open in shock. Silence hung thick between them for eternal minutes. Isaac was just starting to think he'd made a huge mistake when Stiles surged up and locked their mouths together, kissing with a ferocity that Isaac had never experienced. He wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles' back and sucked in a ragged breath when Stiles started clawing at their jeans, desperate to press skin-to-skin.

It was a desperation that matched his own and he groaned in relief when the constricting clothes were finally pushed away. With a sudden whirl of air, he found himself on his back, Stiles above him, eyes hot and almost werewolf gold. He had barely caught his breath before Stiles was kissing him again, and he whimpered loudly as their bodies met, hips thrusting and cocks sliding together, slippery with pre-come and sweat. 

"Fuck, Isaac, you- I-," Stiles hips had picked up a rhythm and he was struggling to find his words, but his eyes never left Isaac's. 

Isaac matched the rhythm even as he felt his control falter. Everything around him seemed to fade and change, and he knew his eyes had shifted.

That only seemed to spur Stiles on. His hips moved faster, rolling and thrusting as their pleasure spiraled higher and higher. He moved a hand to tangle in Isaac's hair and when Isaac choked out a whimpered "Please!" the rhythm of his hips stuttered. A deep moan was torn from his throat as he trembled violently. 

Isaac felt the wet heat on his belly and it was enough to push him that last step. He thrust up hard and pulled Stiles tight against him as his blood surged and his world flashed white.

He lost track of time as he waited for his heartbeat to return to normal and his breathing to even out. 

"Knew I was gonna like your thoughts," Stiles said, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab his discarded shirt. 

Isaac laughed, still slightly out of breath. "It didn't quite go the way I had planned, but I'm not going to complain." He took the shirt from Stiles' hand and used it to clean them both off. 

In the calm of the afterglow, Isaac twined his fingers with Stiles' and let his thoughts drift. He hadn't accomplished everything he'd set out to do, but Stiles' response to what he he _had_ managed reassured him that he could continue the lessons another time. Scott's suggestion had definitely been a good one. Speaking of which...

"So, I was thinking." 

"Give me an hour," Stiles murmured. 

Isaac grinned and nudged him with an elbow. "No, not about that. I was wondering..."

"Hmmm?"

"About you and Scott."

Stiles rolled over, curling himself into Isaac's side with one arm draped across his chest. "What about me and Scott?"

Isaac wrapped his arms around Stiles' shoulders and began running his fingertips up and down Stiles' back. "When you guys were younger, did you ever..?"

"Did we ever what?" Stiles asked sleepily.

"Did you two ever, you know, do stuff together? Stuff like this?" Isaac couldn't see it, but he could feel the wide grin that was stretching across Stiles' face. "Stiles?" When the silence continued to stretch out, he tried to lift his head. "Stiles?"

A light snore was the only response he got.


End file.
